The Alexandria Quartet (Justine, 1957, Balthazar, 1958, Mountolive, 1958, Clea, 1960) presents a procession of characters as rich and diverse as any work of twentieth-century fiction. At first glance, they all seem terribly exotic, in part because of their Alexandrian setting, which seems to shape character in mysterious ways. Then readers realize that they have met most of these characters before, in life and in literature, and they are quite conventional:

diplomats and politicians whose lives are lived at the center of power and who yet remain curiously powerless; inept intelligence agents who seem to lack, above all, intelligence and the ability to fathom their own plots; prostitutes with hearts of gold; writers and artists who talk too much and create too little, whose creative struggles are frustrated for a variety of reasons; and lovers of all persuasions who remain, for the most part, incomplete lovers.

Most of the characters may seem...